


Crash

by Auto_Alchemechanicist



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Car Accident, F/M, Post Break Up AU, doing a common thing, fran does that rare thing, she writes again, writing until 5 am lmfao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 13:36:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15996308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auto_Alchemechanicist/pseuds/Auto_Alchemechanicist
Summary: For the prompt: you’re my emergency contact and I've been in an accident so you drop everything to come to the hospital. For gabzep on tumblr, thanks for the encouragement!!





	Crash

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyy lmfao, here's a one shot that I hope tickles your fancy. Since it's a post-break-up au, obviously that's featured here, but I love everlark so let's see what happens to these two. I didn't edit it because it's 5 am and I wanted to share it with you all before I went back to my cave and studied until my eyes burned off lol. Let me know what you think!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games. I just play with the characters as Barbie dolls for my own entertainment.

Waking up in a room unfamiliar to him made should have made him feel scared, but instead confusion took its place and began to play mind games with him. There was beeping and a strong smell of something he couldn’t put a name to, but he ignored it for the time being. The pounding in his head was his main priority and he wished he could figure out what caused it because that would have been helpful. Any hint would have been welcomed just to give him some sense of what was going on, but nothing was coming to him.

 

Peeta Mellark looked around the room as far as his peripheral vision would allow him to, noticing the chair that rested on the floor beside the bed he laid on, the television tuned into the news with low volume, and the closed curtains that concealed the window. If the curtains had been drawn, he would have been able to see what time of day it was, but even that seemed impossible at that point. There were tubes attached to his arm that led to an IV attached to a metal contraption beside his bed and a beeping machine that continuously kept making the soft yet annoying noise every few seconds. He rested on a cushioned—if uncomfortable—bed and a blanket covered him up to his chest, and it was until the color of the gown he wore registered in his throbbing head that he realized he was in the hospital. He heard a loud honk, a swivel of wheels on dark pavement, a collision of metal against metal, and shattering glass in his mind. Maybe ignorance was bliss because after the memory resurfaced, he wished he hadn’t recalled what happened to him. It only made the pain in his head intensify.

 

“Mr. Mellark, you have a visitor.” The voice of a woman in dark blue scrubs caught his attention, but he could barely concentrate on what she said.

 

A visitor? Last time he checked, his family was back home in District 12, hours away from where he lived now. There was no way they would have come to see him so quickly. His friends probably didn’t even know he was in the hospital; he had been coming home from work and driving to his apartment was a routine already. If he had gone missing, it wouldn’t have been noticeable until days later… If he had had a girlfriend, maybe she would have worried, but they had broken up a couple of weeks prior to the incident, so it couldn’t have been possible that she would be there to see him. As far as he knew, she was fine without him.

 

Perhaps he wasn’t even conscious to begin with and he was just seeing what he wanted to see. Maybe his visitor wasn’t even real and his imagination was running wild in his disoriented and drugged up state because his ex-girlfriend walked into the room. She looked disheveled, as if she had been in a rush, with her loose hair wet and her eyes wide and alert. Maybe this was the type of dream that was neither pleasant nor horrible, just neutral and meant to confuse him and to show him he still missed her. Dreams did a weird thing in which they pointed out the mind’s deepest desires, so that was probably what was going on with him. She was just a dream…

 

“Peeta,” she whispered, placing her hand on her chest as if to help her breathe.

 

He couldn’t even form a single word to say, his mouth feeling like it had been sown shut. His mind was yelling, though, trying to tell her this wasn’t real and it was just a figment of his imagination. Until she burst into tears and rushed to his side.

 

She didn’t give him a chance to even process what was going on. All he did know was that his face was in her hands and she gentle held him before gently pressing her forehead against his, her tears streaming down her cheeks and her face contorting into an upset mix of desperation and anxiety. The evidence was in her voice, which hiccupped and got caught in her sobs as she tried to speak.

 

“When they called…and said you were hurt…I thought…I thought the worst.” She struggled to suck in a breath, obviously out of air from the stress she was under, and her sniffles weren’t of much help. Peeta could tell she was trying her best to stay grounded and after feeling her soft skin against his cold, clammy forehead, he knew she was more than just real and this was more than just a mere hospital stay. “I thought you were going to die.”

 

The right side of his lips tugged upward. “It’s alright…I’m alive,” he answered, his voice hoarse and raspy, as if he hadn’t used his voice in decades.

 

She buried her face on his shoulder and he so badly wanted to comfort her and take away her pain, because she was worried and crying and if he hadn’t been here, then she wouldn’t have been in so much agony. He had forgotten about his own pain completely; what mattered to him was her well-being. He felt her hand caress his hair along his neck and her breath tickle his neck while he tried his best to hold her, finding it to be a challenge with the interfering tubes and the pain in his muscles. He must have had injuries in other parts of his body besides his head, then.

 

After she calmed down and regained her composure, she took brought the chair closer to sit next to Peeta and took a seat. For a moment, they remained in silence, only the machine that read Peeta’s vitals filling the room with some kind of sound, but it wasn’t enough to cut the tension in the room or the pounding in his heart. He knew his ex; he knew that if he stayed silent, she would as well. Words weren’t her strong point, especially when she was uncomfortable, but if he didn’t say something then they would stay like this the entire night, or at least until she decided to leave.

 

“How did you know I was here?” he finally asked.

 

“I was told I’m your emergency contact,” she answered. “They told me you were in an accident…. I dropped what I was doing and hurried over here.”

 

“An accident?” Even though he had remembered something of the sort with the flash of the unpleasant memory with the screeching tires and the breaking glass, he still hadn’t been able to put it all together on his own.

 

“Yeah, someone crashed into you. The nurse that brought me here said you hit your head. You might have trauma.” Her voice was low, almost as if she didn’t want to talk about it, but she did so for his sake. “You don’t remember getting hit?”

 

 “No, I…I’m having trouble making sense of what’s going on.” That would also explain why his headache wouldn’t subside.

 

“So nobody has come around to tell you what happened?” The disbelief in her voice couldn’t be hidden. She was about to stand—to call a nurse or to leave the room for some air perhaps—but he reached out for her hand to keep her at bay.

 

“I woke up literally two minutes before you arrived. I don’t think I gave them the chance to talk to me yet,” he explained.

 

Her attempt at wringing out of his hold gave him the sense she didn’t want to be touched, but instead, she repositioned her hand so their fingers would intertwine. She gave his hand a light squeeze afterwards and relaxed against his touch. She let out a heavy sigh as she directed her attention to the tiled floor underneath her feet. “I leave you alone for five minutes and look at the kind of trouble you get into.”

 

That made him laugh, not so much at the comment, but because she found a way to make light of the situation, which was something he always did. He liked to believe that his sense of humor rubbed off on her after dating for two years. “Yeah, I need someone like you to keep me in line.”

 

The silence returned, but it hardly felt uncomfortable. After asking her for the time, Peeta understood why the atmosphere had felt heavy when he woke up. At two-thirty in the morning, he hadn’t had much sleep and when he saw her come in, he, too, would have felt groggy and upset if he had been called to come see his ex in the hospital. A nurse came in to check on him every so often to take his vitals and ask him questions, probably checking to see if he was conscious enough for communication or if there was anything wrong with him. He couldn’t stand his headache and asked for something—anything—to make it go away, and after he was given medication, he lost consciousness and his hold on his exe’s hand loosened as he succumbed to the dark, senseless world of his dreams. There was that vague distant memory of cars crashing, which roused him from his rest into the awakened world with a jump. He was sweaty, his heart crashed against his tightened chest, and his head felt a dull pulse along his temple. The only pleasant sight that made the situation bearable was the sleeping girl that rested her head against his bed, her hand still holding onto his. She stirred, interrupted from her sleep, and her eyes fluttered open.

 

Once she straightened up, as far as she could do so with the hard, uncomfortable chair, she looked around before directing her attention to him, as if remembering what she was doing there. “Is something the matter?”

 

“Why…didn’t you go home and rest?” he asked, not sure of his reasons for doing so. He should have just kept his mouth shut. She was his only visitor and if she left…he wasn’t sure if she would return.

 

She looked at him for what felt like hours, but it must have been a few seconds in reality, until she answered him. “I’m afraid of letting you go.” A fresh well of tears made its way down her flushed cheeks and she turned away to blink them away. Since that failed, she used the sleeve of her free arm to wipe them away, apologizing for her reaction.

 

Peeta wanted to believe she cared about him despite their split, but a part of him told him she was just scared and she was just processing what happened in her own way. For her to show vulnerability, it took a lot of strength because she was always on survival mode and it must have taken a toll on her to go through so much stress in less than one night. “I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her, giving her hand a tight squeeze. “Katniss?”

 

She looked at him once again, her eyes puffy and red.

 

“Thanks for coming to see me.”

 

Leaning forward, Katniss brushed the hair back from his eyes, running her hand along the side of Peeta’s face until she cupped his cheek. “You would have done the same for me.”

 

Between visits from a doctor and multiple nurses, Peeta tried to convince Katniss to at least get something to drink or eat, but she refused to leave. It wasn’t until he was given a diagnosis and he was given a copy of instructions on what to do after his release that she allowed herself to accept any kind of food. However, at that point, when the new day was beginning with the sun rising, it was apparent they were both restless and food wouldn’t have cured their state. Because his car wasn’t in the condition for use, Katniss took Peeta to his apartment, helping him settle in and coaxing him into his bed to rest.

 

“I still think they released you too quickly,” she said as she fluffed a couple of pillows before placing them behind Peeta’s head.

 

“Doctor said I was fine, though,” Peeta pointed out. “I’m glad I was released. Hospitals don’t exactly feel like home.”

 

“You have a head injury,” Katniss stated. “I’m not a doctor to evaluate their work, but it’s too soon in my opinion. I’ll ask Prim to check you for good measure.”

 

Peeta didn’t know what to think at that point since he was still reeling from the whole experience and his exhaustion was getting the better of him. “Thank you.”

 

For a moment, he observed Katniss as she placed a blanket over him, but the combination of fatigue and pain made him succumb to sleep. There was a dream again, but he couldn’t remember exactly what it was about when he awoke hours later. He felt an emptiness in his apartment—the kind he had gotten somewhat familiar with after Katniss stopped coming over—and realized Katniss had left. Of course she left! They weren’t a couple anymore. She wasn’t obligated to stay. What he did from now on was his business and his problem and Katniss didn’t have to get involved. She had to move on. He wasn’t part of her life anymore and he had to accept that, even if it had taken him time to do so in the past weeks. It had been a miracle to even see her in the hospital, crying and fretting over him without scolding him for being careless or for getting himself in an accident. What was that about her being afraid of letting him go, anyway? She let him go when they broke up. How was this any different? Peeta bounced these thoughts back and forward until he saw a note that rested on the beside table beside him. He reached for it half-heartedly, but he was curious to see what it said even if the scribbles were in Katniss’s writing. Print transitioning into messing cursive writing, an indicator that she had more than one emotion while writing.

 

_‘I made you breakfast and left it on the counter for you. I’ll be back after work to check on you. -K’_

Peeta stared and reread the note for what seemed like hours, and after checking the clock for the time, he decided it was probably a good idea to eat something instead of feeling bitter and upset on an empty stomach. He didn’t want to get his hopes up. Katniss was probably doing this because she probably owed him for something; that was her thought process for doing things at times and because they didn’t have anything to do with each other, this was the first thing Peeta thought of to rationalize her reasons for helping him. Not out of love for him or out of actual care. It’s not like she needed him anyway. Yet she was acting like she was still his girlfriend and Peeta couldn’t help his heart skipping a few beats and the familiar butterflies in his stomach and chest. He wanted to believe she still cared and that their breakup was a mistake, but after her not being responsive to his messages after that, and after weeks of being out of one another’s lives, it wasn’t likely. Still, he ate what she had made him, remembering the times they cooked and ate together, and the nostalgia proved to be more painful than the headache he had the night before.

 

He thought he made a good choice by calling his work and explaining his absence when he heard the front door open. Katniss’s dark hair came into view along with a few bags that hung from her arms. He wondered how on Earth she had access to his apartment until he remembered he gave her a copy of his key so she could come and go as she pleased. He thought there was no point in asking for it back, but now he wondered if he should have. Nonetheless, he stood to help her and took some of the bags from her.

 

“Oh, good, you’re up. I brought you some groceries.” She set the remaining bags on the table and unloaded the contents.

 

“You didn’t have to do that, Katniss,” he said, feeling how his heart softened instantly for her. It was hard to stay mad at her, especially when she did things like this. Little, unsolicited gestures that made him go crazy at the unclear intentions.

 

“I noticed you didn’t have that much in the fridge…. Given the fact you don’t have a car right now, I figured I could you something.”

 

He _had_ been neglecting some of the essentials, but he had been busy with work that he hadn’t had time to stock up on food. He immersed himself in work on purpose because it kept him from thinking about _her_.

 

Still, he felt sheepish and somewhat guilty for having such negative thoughts about her when she had gone out of her way to get him some food. The least he could do was thank her.

 

“Wait, where _is_ my car?”

 

Katniss looked up at him briefly before watching where she set the carton of eggs she held down on the table, being extra careful with it for some reason Peeta didn’t understand. “It’s getting repaired. I went to check on it and I was told it would take a couple of weeks.”

 

Great, just what he needed. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t familiar with the public transportation around the city, but it wasn’t the same as having his car. Now he had to depend on it until his car was ready. It was a lot of things at once and he had to take a seat to somewhat process it all. He rubbed his neck, trying to figure out if it was the soreness from the crash or if he was just tense, focusing on every other direction except Katniss’s. He didn’t want to be this distant, but his mind was telling him to not get attached, to not feel like he still needed her, and to stop trying to believe there was any chance that they could get back together. This was temporary and once he fully recovered, it would be over for good between the two of them. It didn’t seem fair, but that was what was going to happen.

 

He sighed in resignation. “I’ll have to check on the bus schedule, then.” He said it more as a way to think out loud, but it still felt nice to have someone to talk to, and by someone he meant his old partner. They were fine, their relationship was fine, but suddenly the spark had gone out and that’s when Katniss decided they should go their separate ways. He missed her terribly.

 

“You know, I can take you where you need to, Peeta,” Katniss began. “It’s not a big deal.”

 

“I don’t want to be a bother, Kat—”

 

“It’s no bother.” As if implying that Peeta should drop the subject, she walked to the fridge to put away the groceries.

 

This wasn’t fair and he hoped Katniss knew it. How would having her so close help with both of them moving on or forgetting about their relationship? He wanted to appreciate her kindness—he did, but he was having a hard time accepting it—but the ache in his skull transferred to his chest and it was as if an elephant had kicked him and knocked the wind out of him. He had to pretend he was fine and maybe helping with putting away the groceries would help, but after their hands brushed by each other and they awkwardly bumped into one another in the small kitchen space of his apartment, Peeta wondered how they would get out of this without him losing his composure. It didn’t help that he noticed Katniss fiddling with the pearl necklace that rested against her chest. He had given it to her for her birthday and she had worn it every day since, loving the single delicate pearl that decorated the soft skin of her collarbone. He had kissed that spot multiple times, along with the rest of her, when the spark still ignited the fire within them. He wondered if there was still a chance it could be rekindled or if it was just wishful thinking.

 

“I should go,” she said, letting out a shaky sigh, and even though she turned her body to the side as if to move away, she still continued to touch the pearl.

 

He’d seen her anxious before, holding the delicate necklace with her hand as if it comforted her, wringing her wrists with her hands afterwards the way she was doing then, and going back to touching the iridescent pearl as if it were precious to her.

 

“Are you alright?” he finally asked, feeling the concern he’d held for her rush back instantly. Maybe she was just as lost as he was and didn’t know what to do about the situation.

 

“No, I…” She had been trying to focus on the wall in front of her, but after his question, her gaze bore into his and what Peeta suspected was Katniss’s resolve seemed to fade as she cupped his face and kissed him, gently at first before he pulled her closer to deepen the kiss. For a moment, all he could hear was their heavy breathing as they impatiently kissed one another and nothing else existed but them. He felt her hand touch the back of his neck, her nails slightly grazing his skin as shivers slid down his spin and around his body. He hadn’t forgotten how it felt to kiss her or have her in his arms while he pushed her against the wall, the small space between the fridge and pantry being witness to their breathless hunger.

 

“I miss you,” he sighed against her lips, holding her hand against the wall in an attempt to grasp onto the reality that this was happening.

 

“I miss you, too,” she said nervously before leaning forward to kiss him again. Her grip on his hair tightened and he couldn’t help moaning into her mouth, but he felt the satisfaction of feeling her shiver against him. “I still need you.”

 

He pressed his forehead against hers as he stared intently into her stunning gray eyes. He may have still been dizzy from the headache, but he was more than sure he could blame it on them making out. “Why did you let me go, then?”

 

“Stupidity,” she groaned.

 

“You’re not stupid.”

 

“I broke up with you because I thought I needed space,” she explained.

 

“Did you get the space you wanted?”

 

“Yes, and it was a terrible idea.”

 

Peeta couldn’t help chuckling. “I agree with you on that one.”

 

She rolled her eyes at him good-naturedly. “I might be pushing it, but…I don’t suppose you’d…want to try again?”

 

Maybe this was being caused by the accident after all because he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Of course, I want to, Katniss. But if you need space, you could just _tell_ me.”

 

“Right,” she said with a smile. “Not right now, though. I don’t mind this lack of space.”

 

“It can get smaller depending on you,” he smirked, his eyes mischievous.

 

Without a second thought, she leaned in and kissed him once again, so close that Peeta could feel the pearl of her necklace against his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> I might do more, but I want to work on the UNIverse so idk?? This was a lot of fun!


End file.
